Troubled Times: A (Poorly) Written Journal by Dean W
by JamieBarnes18
Summary: The brothers have had another of their arguments; Dean is more upset then he let on, more broken then anyone realized. Sam was having one of his occurring bouts of anger. Can Sam "man up" and learn more about who his brother is? Can he realize that what his brother is on the outside may not really be him. Can his family save him? Can their bond grow stronger?
1. Chapter 1

Useless. Stupid. Suicidal. No one needs me... He doesn't need me, Bobby doesn't need me. That's what he said. Never needed in the first place. But my whole life was based on protecting Sam, being strong for Sam, being tough for Sam, "in order to protect Sam I needed to start with the all the monsters in the world" for Sam. That was what Dad engraved into my head. I'll fix everything. Sam won't have to deal with me anymore. I thought, I won't bother him by staying anymore. They don't need me. I broke the First Seal. The first piece that lead to Lucifer being let out, Sam almost going into the cage with Lucifer, Michael, and Adam. Almost getting Bobby killed… Responsible for Castiel blowing up, for Castiel feeling the need to do everything for me, for practically allowing him to take in those souls and Leviathan, for him almost dying too. I didn't understand that. I've hurt him and still says that everything that he's done for me.  
I took a drink of my glass of whiskey, feeling it burn as it crept down my throat. A tear fell from the corner of my eye. Sam was so independent, and Bobby could live without me. Cass had lived a thousand years without me. Maybe I should just end this now, I'm obviously of no use to anyone anymore. I can't do anything right. I'll just get rid of the problem myself, save them the trouble and get it over with.  
I took another drink, finishing it off, and went over to the night stand to grab my knife. I thought about writing a note, but what would have been the point? To give them a reason to pity me. That was totally not what I wanted. So, grabbing my keys, I got into the Impala and drove off. I didn't exactly know where I was going, but I didn't want to die in a house that held so many memories that I thought everyone here had shared.

How could I have said all of that to him? After everything that he's possibly done for me and I swat him like a fly when he makes a mistake… I must be the worst brother in the world… I thought as I sat in the passenger seat of Bobby's car; Bobby pulled into an old parking lot.  
"You cooled off now, Sam?" Bobby asked me, as if he were sitting there and talking to a small child.  
"Yeah." I replied, staring guiltily at my feet.  
"Don't start beatin' yourself up. I know that things have been stressful between the two of ya. But you really need to find a different way to work things out with him."  
"I didn't mean what I said, Bobby. I don't know why I even said it in the first place!" I said, "I want to apologize to him, let him know that."  
"Now hold your horses, Sam. You just gave him some hell back at the motel. Let him think and cool off, too."  
"Okay Bobby. But I want to get him something."  
"And what would that be?"  
"I'm going to get him some cherry pie. His favorite."  
"Well, you're real lucky, boy."  
"Why's that?"  
"Because there's a bakery in town that sells freshly 'home-made' pie."  
"Great! Where is it?"  
"Couple of blocks away from here."  
"Alright, let's go then." I said, as we walked back to the car. Settling ourselves into the seats.

Bobby and I stood in line at the bakery, and I thought, This place is really popular… Which will mean that the pies are good. The place smelled amazing, and we had ordered two cherry pies for Dean. But I really was starting to get antsy. I needed to get to Dean and apologize, because I was starting to get a bad feeling in my gut. Recalling old conversations with Dad that I never wanted to know, or hear, about.  
I still can't believe I said that to him... It's all bullcrap that I felt made up to make him feel bad… I thought guiltily, But was it all really just bullcrap? Something that I made up to hurt Dean...? Or was it something that came deep inside my subconscious…? I watched Bobby walk over to the counter when our number was called, paying for the pies.  
"I hope Dean's okay..." I said as we left the building, "If he's done something stupid-"  
"Don't think like that." Bobby replied, putting the keys in the ignition, "We both know he's been a little depressed, but he wouldn't do that, Sam. He cares about everyone to much -more than he'll admit- to do that."  
"What if he does, Bobby?" I answered, "Dad's told me that Dean would get bouts of depression, and came back when I left for college. What if all of those feelings came back when I went off on him."  
"Well, stop conversing like an old woman and let's get going." Bobby said pointedly, starting the car. Then we were headed back to Bobby's.

Feeling the rumble of Baby's engine was comforting, safe. I was letting her take me somewhere safe, somewhere I could let myself go. As I drove, a forest started passing by. I suddenly got a feeling and knew this was the place. So, as if I were being pulled by rope, I parked along the line of trees.  
I slowly got out of the Impala, leaving my cell phone, feeling the breeze of forest air on my face as I walked in. The place was gorgeous. I couldn't see how anyone could ever call the place 'ugly'. I could see people having picnics, hiking. But it had a feeling of emptiness, of being alone.  
My hand searched my jeans to find what was concealed. It was hiding, lurking until the perfect, final, moment. It was my only companion, for now. I followed a thin, dirt, trail with long tall trees that screamed loneliness. There were tiny flowers along the path that I took. Some of the flowers were a light pink -almost white, with the middle being bright orange.  
I didn't get far when I stopped in my tracks, and thought, This is it...

We parked in front of the house; Dean was probably still parked in the back. He does that -parking Baby in the car lot behind the house. Once the engine turned off, I jumped out of the car. The bad feeling that I had earlier came back, forcefully. I turned the knob and went inside, Bobby behind me.  
"Dean...!" I called out. I look over at Bobby, worried. There wasn't an answer from Dean, "Dean!"  
Bobby had already started to look around. searching for some clue as to where Dean was, or headed to. So I sat the pies down and started to look around the house. There was something wrong, I just knew it.  
"Sam. I'm going to call the Operator to give us his coordinates." Bobby said, pulling out his phone, "He still using the 'John Paul' phone number right, Sam?"  
"Yeah, Bobby." I replied, starting to bite my knuckles. I was getting anxious, where was he? I continued to look around, I found that the only thing missing was Dean's favorite knife.  
My whole body froze where it stood: He took the knife with him. This can't be happening, not when I needed to apologize, to tell him how much I really needed him, when I needed him the most… I walk back into the room.  
"I have the coordinates, Sam."  
"Bobby. He took his knife, too…"  
"Let's go." Bobby was trying to stay calm in this situation. But, I couldn't ponder right now. We needed to get to Dean, quickly. We race back to the car, and quickly drove off.

"Are we almost there?" I asked, seeing the long line of trees that belonged to the forest; but then I see the Impala, "There! There's the Impala!"  
"I know, Idjit." Bobby said, driving faster to get to Baby, "But these aren't the coordinates…"  
"He's in the woods…" I said with dread filling my core.  
"Come on, Sam." Bobby replied, as we ran into the forest. We were five minutes in, following the path that looked recently treaded on. But I was really worried that we wouldn't find him in time.  
"Dean…!" I yelled, "Dean…!"

***  
-Fifteen Minutes Before-

This'll be quick, maybe even painless. I thought as I stood, running my index finger down the blade. I took a few calming breaths before I placed the blade against my stomach. Resting it there for only a moment. Now… I plunged the knife in, feeling it slide into place. It felt like time stopped. The word 'Peaceful' came to mind. But death wasn't coming quick enough. I pull out the blade to lay it against my right wrist, I cut a slow, precise line. The correct way, not the quick job people usually did.  
Then I moved to the left, and the blade fell to the ground. I fought sleep, I wanted to see the world a little longer. But maybe I should sleep for a minute. I have plenty of time to see the beautiful world stand still. I lie on the grass, as if it were a comfortable bed, with a frown. But that soon turned peaceful, as I started to hear singing as I lay here. It was peaceful.  
I could stay here forever… I thought as I drifted into unconsciousness.

-Five Minutes Later-

There was a sudden rush of birds and animals coming from one certain direction. Why? I wasn't so sure. "From the way the animals came from the noise, I'd say we go west a little. Kay, Sam?"  
"Yeah, sure Bobby." We started walking towards the west. I just hope it's not to late… I thought, as I quickened my pace.

We walked west for five minutes straight when we finally came to a clearing. There, lying on the ground in the middle of the surrounding trees, was Dean. He looked like he had just fell into bed.  
"Dean?" I asked, then I noticed the blade that was on the ground next to him. "Dean!"

There was blood gushing from his wound. I ran over, pulling him into my lap. I look him over to see the stab wound in his gut, so I put pressure on the wound. Bobby hurried over, sitting right next to Dean's head, he placed a hand on his jugular to check for a pulse.  
"He's still hanging in there, Sam." Bobby said, trying to stay calm, "Let's get him back to the main road. Then I'll call for the ambulance."  
"Got it." I said, moving to carefully pick up my brother from the ground. Then we were running to the main road. I didn't notice Dean's blood soaking into my shirt, and it didn't help me when I saw his arm slip from its place on Dean's chest. He cut his wrists too…

We reached the main road in a lot less time than when we arrived. I was sitting on the ground, holding onto Dean. I stared at Dean's face and noticed all of the tear tracks that were there, causing my own tears to fall down my face.  
"Why did I ever say those awful things? I'm so sorry, Dean…" I said. Then I heard the sirens in the distance. Hearing them, the medics, park and slamming the doors open and closed and open again. They knew this was serious. 'Grab the stretcher!' 'Open up the back!' 'Prepare the IV!'  
"Sam, you need to let go. The gurneys ready for him." Bobby said, "I'm coming with you."  
"We need to go now, or he won't make it." One of the medics said. I let go of Dean, allowing the medics to place Dean on the gurney and into the back of the ambulance. Then I followed the medics in the back with Dean. He was so pale…  
This is all my fault. Dean's dying because of me. I let him down. I sat there, I watched as they checked my brother's vitals. We were five minutes away from the Impala when there was a screeching beep, it reminded me of the sirens that were squealing from the top of the ambulance. Bobby placed a hand on my knee, grounding me.  
"We're losing him!" One of the medics stated, then yelled up to the driver, "Hit the pedal, John! How far away are we from the center?"  
"Five more minutes, Zach." The driver stated.  
The medic, Zach, looked over at his partner and said, "Grab the defibrillators, Dick!"  
Oh my god… I thought, Dean is really dying… I still had so much to tell him, to apologize, tell him that I needed him, that I loved him and he was never allowed to leave me ever again. No matter what I tell him. I don't care if it turns out to be a major chick-flick moment, he can deal with it.  
"Clear!" Zach stated, placing the defibrillators on the correct places on Dean's chest. Bobby gave my knee a squeeze, but it didn't comfort me. It only made me realize even more that I was losing Dean. I watched them shock Dean again and again and again.  
"Don't you dare think about dying on me, Dean." I whispered.

I opened my transparent eyes, and realized that time and space was now bent differently all around me. I don't understand what's going on, my mind's blank and I was having a hard time seeing through the cloudiness. Where am I? What am I doing here?  
"We're losing him! Hit the pedal! How far away are we from the center?" Center? Am I being driven somewhere? The cloudiness was starting to ebb away, beginning to clear. Everything that I saw had a strange hue to it.  
"Five more minutes, Zach." Was he the one driving?  
"Grab the defibrillators, Dick!" Did my heart really stop? I look down and froze in shock. It's so strange, truly seeing myself from the outside. Not a reflection from a window or mirror, or even a reflecting surface. But the whole of who I was. I have ceased to be, and yet I still exist. I know I'm not a ghost, and I remember how I got like this. I tried to kill myself with my dagger.  
"Clear!" I watch my body as it was shocked, over and over again. They were trying to bring me back. I had felt so selfish in my life. Wanting to keep my family (that I 'kept' together), keep them safe. Protect them with my life. I loved them all so much. So much that I made myself unimportant, little. Thinking Sam meant everything he said.  
"Don't you dare think about dying on me, Dean." I heard Sam whisper softly. Then I remembered that I couldn't let him down. Not ever. So I allowed my heart to start beating, but I didn't return to my body. I wasn't ready. I look around and saw that I was in an ambulance. Then I saw Sam and Bobby, sitting out of the way, for the first time.  
I saw their souls and they were beautiful. Sam's soul: gold and white, was as bright as the sun. Proving he was full of life. But there were specks of dark blue, deep purple, and red, too. He is sad about my almost passing, and angry at his words towards me, and guilty over a lot of things I couldn't pick up. Then I saw Bobby's soul. His was like Sam's, with different specks: violet, melancholy; black, sadness; gold, hope.  
"We've got him back." My spirit was full of so much love for them, that when I touched their hands, I actually did touch them (instead of falling through them). I saw the look on their faces, they were so shocked, relieved.  
"It's okay." I told them. There was so much that I should've done, when all the small things mattered. Yet, I saw the purpose in lingering out of my body.

As Bobby an I sat there, there was a reassuring, steady beep in the air, giving me some relief. Dick stated, rushing to another task. "He's back."  
Thank god… I thought, then I felt something touch my hand. Dean…? Then it disappeared. I was about to ask Bobby, but he was just as shocked as I was. As soon as we pulled into the emergency drop off, they began unloading Dean out of the ambulance and into the ER as fast as they could. And the memory of the touch was momentarily dismissed for a little while. The nurses kept Bobby and I in the waiting room to fill out the medical forms for Dean.  
"He's alright now, right?" I asked Bobby nervously.  
"Other than healing his physical wounds and his mental beating, he'll be fine. When he wakes up, you really need to work on your relationship with him. Only God knows how much he's done for you, boy."  
"What do you mean?"  
"Not my job to tell. But, I have journal that belongs to your brother. He wrote some things in it that aren't about hunting. He told me about it a week after Castiel came back, said he had wrote in it. Not sure about what, but he asked me to hold onto it for him. He wanted me to give the journal to you if there was a chance he never got to tell you before he died… I'm sorry, Sam. I really am."  
"When did he start writing in it?"  
"He said that it was almost a year after you left to go to Stanford."  
"Do you have it with you?" I asked him.  
"I always have it. I take it everywhere, Sam. You know, just in case." Bobby replied, "But right now it's in my car, that is sitting along the side of the road. I'll get it later, after we find out a little more about Dean."  
"Okay, Bobby." I said, picking up the pen and finished the medical papers. Then a few moments later, after I finished, I looked up to see the medics -Zach and Dick. They look grim as they got closer.  
"Afternoon gentlemen." Zach greeted when they finally reached us.  
"Afternoon…" Bobby replied, I nodded my head in acknowledgment.  
"How is he?" I asked gingerly, anxious.  
"He's stable for now, and currently in ICU. When the blade stabbed him, it only grazed his liver. He also had major head trauma." Dick relayed, then asked, "May I ask for his medical information?"  
"Of course!" I replied, handing him the papers, "Is he alright? Is he awake? Can I talk to him?"  
"You can talk to him, but I won't guarantee an answer back." Zach replied, looking at his shoes. They seemed nervous.  
"What does that mean…?" Bobby asked, I was afraid of the answer.  
"We had actually lost him a lot during surgery. But, obviously, we got him back." Dick answered, "Three minutes after surgery, he woke up yelling 'Sammy'. He was thrashing around, panicking. We had to sedate him, and that caused a bad reaction…"  
"What kind of reaction?" Bobby asked warily, giving them the 'Look'.  
"An amateur nurse, who wasn't even supposed to be there anyway, gave him the wrong dose." Dick answered, "And we're sorry that we have to tell you that he's currently in a coma. The head of the hospital is dealing with her now. We are terribly sorry about this."  
"What?" I said shocked, then thought, How could this happen?  
"We will take full responsibility for her actions and will pay for everything." Zach tells us, "We will, certainly, make sure that he's completely comfortable during his stay."  
Dick looked at the medical papers, giving a quick read through, "So you're Dean's brother? Son?"  
"I'm his brother." I answered, "I'm Sam. This is our Uncle Bobby."  
The piece of information seemed to piece together the mystery of who Sam was, and Zach replied shocked, "You're Sam? We thought Sam would be someone else…like his lover or something… I'm so sorry."  
"It's okay. People ask us all the time if we're lovers. So don't worry about it. You're not the only one out there who hasn't asked." I said, passed being shocked at the super often asked/made assumption.  
"If you don't mind me asking, would you mind if we see Dean? Sit with him?" Bobby suggested, then trying to lighten the mood, "Maybe we'll be able to talk him out of his coma."  
"Of course, right this way." Dick said with a small grin, and we followed the two into the hall.  
We stopped in front of a mahogany brown door. It was wide, with a small clear window. The doctors/medics slowly -cautiously- pushed the door open. The moment I step into the room, I heard the sound of Dean's heart monitor, the air rushing from Dean's canola. He's so pale, so still, so silent. I walked closer, seeing most of his bandages. His wrists and head were wrapped, and I knew he had stitches. It was unnerving. I move to stand in front of the chair next to him -it was next to the window.  
"I'm so sorry, Dean. I let you down big time…" I kiss his forehead, then sat down in the chair next to him (and the window), holding his hand, "I won't let you leave me, not now… There's so much to tell you. There's so much I want to know from you, that I don't want to just find out from a journal. But I'll read it anyway. I know that it'll be a little easier for you to explain things… Just come back to me, Dean…"  
"We'll come back later to check up on his vitals." Zach said sadly. Then they turn, shut the door, and left. I pulled the chair closer to the bed and Bobby moved closer to us.  
"Is there something I can do for you, Sam?" Bobby asked.  
"Could you get the journal? I believe that I'll be staying for a while."  
"Of course, Sam. I'll be back. I'll bring some food back with me."

'Why did you even come back, Dean? Did you think that things would be the same from before you died? No! I had to stand there and watch you being attacked by an invisible Hellhound! And that happened because you had to act just like Dad! I cringed at the words he was saying. Plus the years of babying, the "I'm-the-boss" and "Holier-than-thou" attitudes! I'm sick of it! I know Bobby's tired of it! I don't need you!' Sam ranted, and the wall in my head -that had been so strong and tall- exploded, began to crumble.  
'Let's go, Sam.' Bobby said, 'Get out of the door, now. You need to cool off before you do something stupid.' Then they walked out and drove to somewhere what was probably miles away.  
'I'm so sorry, Sammy. I didn't realize you felt that way…' I said; shortly after they left.

Bobby had came back a half an hour after he left. We were now sitting beside Dean, the notebook lying untouched on my lap. Bobby glanced my way a couple of times, but before I could say anything, there was a knock. I move the notebook off my lap, I set it on the table, then I answered the door.  
It's just a nurse, "Um, sir. I believe that someone is trying to call your brother. We've been looking for it since 'Smoke On The Water' started going off." She held out the phone. "Here you go, sir."  
I take the phone from her, "Thank you." She nodded her head, but then she turned and went down the hallway. Then before I could check to see who kept calling, 'Smoke On The Water' went off and the caller ID read: 'Castiel'. I said, "Hey Castiel."  
"Sam, where's Dean? I need to speak with him." He asked worried, "I had a bad feeling and wanted to check up on him." Then it apparently dawned on him. "Wait… Where's Dean, Sam? Why didn't he answer his phone?"  
"We're at St. John's Hospital in Illinois." I replied, then before I said anything else the phone clicked. Then there was a 'pop!' and Castiel appeared.  
His face looked solemn, "What happened?"  
"He tried to kill himself." I replied, the memory still fresh in my mind, "Over all the stupid things that I told him, forgetting he was depressed."  
Castiel stood next to Dean, resting a hand on his cheek, "You're going to be okay, Dean." He brushes the hair away from Dean's forehead, then he turned to Bobby and I, "I cannot revive him. He's put up a block. I can't wake him. I believe that he needs the time to heal mentally. I will give that to him, he deserves at least that much. Besides, he is in the room." He looks at the chair that I had sat in, seeing the journal, and picked it up. "You must read this, Sam. I haven't read Dean's journal. But, you will understand better after you've read it."  
"Wait, he's in this room, right now?" I asked, confused.  
"Yes; a mere observer." Castiel answered, "He is taking the path to observe. But, there may be times where he can moves things or touch people."  
"The ambulance!" I exclaimed, "I felt a touch on my hand! Could that've been him?"  
"Yes, Sam. It could very well have been him."  
"Are you staying here, Castiel?" Bobby asked curiously.  
"Yes, I'll stay." He answered, "Sam, I think you should start reading his journal. The sooner you start, the better."  
"Why couldn't he tell me himself?" I asked curiously.  
"He's probably afraid of your reaction, Sam." Bobby answered, "Since you've started getting these small bouts of anger, pushing him away, I doubt that he would want to tell you in person."  
"He also felt that he wasn't ready to tell you yet." Castiel added.  
"Fine." I said, holding out my hand, "Give it here, Castiel." He hands it to me, and I sit in the chair in front of Dean's bed. I noticed Castiel took my original seat and Bobby in his, I open the journal and read: January 24, 2001  
It's almost been a year since Sam left for Stanford to study law, and become a lawyer. Maybe I could hire him when he finishes college? (Yes, Sam. I remembered your major. How could I?)  
But now it's time for me to "come clean" about my side of our past. To tell everyone the truth. Then, maybe, continue to "write my heart out" here in this journal. So, here goes nothing. (This is for you, Sam.)  
My life before the fire wasn't as great as John made it seem. There was no perfect marriage, no perfect family. He was never home long, or often. Apart from being a part-time mechanic, he was a drunk. He would stay in motels, he would never stay unless mom begged him to. When he didn't, he would call and just argue with her. Pick fights with her.  
Mom had called me her "Guardian Angel", especially when John was home and rude to her. She told me that the Marines changed him. More mean. He never hit us, it was mostly threats. Besides, I would always get between them. Not allowing myself to let her get hurt.  
Then Sam was born and I had two people to protect. I would never let John around Sam for long, but I knew mom let John hold him anyway when I wasn't around. Then mom died from the demon and the house fire on Sam's first birthday. He promised he would stop drinking, would stay around more, and would protect "his boys". But I didn't trust him one bit.  
I was right. He lied, deciding a week later that he was going to hunt the thing that killed mom. I thought that he was insane, because I thought monsters weren't real (I soon found that I was wrong). John told me that he needed me to watch Sammy for a while.  
He was gone for two weeks.  
After he finally decided to come back, he moved us. Motel to another motel. Then would disappear for days, maybe weeks. I didn't even go to school until Sam was old enough. I had self-educated myself before I had stepped one foot into a school. So, I wasn't that dumb.  
During that time, I had claimed Sam as my own. My son. I fed, clothed, and bathed him. I potty trained him, taught him to walk. I was his teething toy. His knight who fought the monsters in his closet, under the bed, in the freezer. I nursed his injuries. Comforted him when he was upset or sick. I was the only person he ever needed. He even used to call me 'Daddy'.  
Now, life with Sammy was as bad as others would think. He became someone who I could fight to the death for, someone to protect, the one person I could live for.  
Then came the day when Sam left. We were standing in the rain, and he was telling me that he had to go. It was his last chance to get out. But it was somewhere I couldn't go. I couldn't go. He told me that he had to get away from here, but that it was my fault.  
I still thought it was my fault. I wasn't who he wanted me to be. It felt as if my kid was flat out saying that he never wanted to see me or hear from me again. To be completely normal was for him to leave me. He told me that he was sorry, shouldered his bag, turned away from me, and ran.  
Falling to my knees, I allowed the rain to soak me to the bone, and let the tears fall from my eyes. I failed.  
I failed the one person I cared about the most. The one I raised. The one I thought of as a son. The one I stole for, went hungry for, lost my virginity for, sold my body for, took all and extra punishment for. But I understood. He did the one thing that I wanted to do my whole life.  
He got away.  
-Dean  
I close the journal and laid it on the table and ask, "Did you know…"  
"I did, Sam." Bobby said, "He told me a little when we were alone, told him that he needed to let it out, whatever 'that' was. It took a lot of pesterin' but he started talkin' eventually." After a second he asks, "You alright, Sam?"  
"I'm fine. But I think I'll go for a quick walk, clear my head. I'll be back." I replied. I was truly stunned at what I read. Is everything that Dean failed to tell me in here? I thought, walking in the hall.

It was really hot in here. What's going on? Suddenly, John ran into the room. Sammy was in his arms and crying.  
'Dean!' He yelled, looking around for me.  
'Dad?' I replied, scared, feeling he fire that was coming from Sam's room. He turned to his right and spotted me, 'What's going on?' I asked, and I peek into Sammy's room and saw Mommy on the ceiling, burning. I couldn't help her. I failed her this time. I always told her that I would protect her.  
'Take Sam and run outside! I'll be there in a moment, boy.' John told me when he found me, handing Sammy over to me. As soon as I had a good hold on Sammy, I ran outside, needing to get Sammy to safety.  
When I got outside, I stood in front of our house, trying to calm Sammy, to let him know that we were safe. I told Sammy, 'It's okay. You'll be safe. I'll protect you, Sammy. Nobody's gonna hurt you, not while I'm around.' Sammy met my gaze and gave a soft sigh as he stopped fussing, giving me a look as if to say: 'I trust you.' That was all that I needed to see, his trust, to give me the strength from then on.

I turn the corner and walk into a garden outside the hospital. Then finding a bench, resting my head in my hands. A tear fell on my cheek. Dean never got one bit of normal before mom died. Dad- No. John was not the man I thought he was before mom's death. I imagined a man who encouraged Dean to play ball, to love mom and take them to the movies. But Dean only got the total opposite of that.  
I know I have to finish reading, find the real man that my brother was- is. And that was what I was going to do. No more tears, Dean wouldn't want that from me. I needed to be strong for him, as he's done for me my whole life- literally. I may not be prepared for what I may read, but I am ready. I can do this for Dean.


	2. Authors Note: 2016

Authors Note!: (yay! I've partially have my life together)

For those who have been waiting for an update from me shall be glad to hear that I am finally getting on the ball again. And wish to apologize for the delay of future chapters. You are all the full for each story I write. So, hopefully now, I can get rolling again.

Much love,

DMWinchester


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